


Guilty

by Searece



Series: Memories and Times [9]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Kink Meme, M/M, Slavery, Transformers Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 14:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3071867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Searece/pseuds/Searece
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>www.tfanonkink.livejournal.com/11776.html?thread=14424576</p>
<p>Kink Meme fill. This occurs sometime in the middle of the above request, when Jazz has been under the House's "care" for quite a while. If you don't, know that Jazz is essentially a slave, and Prowl and Smokescreen are trying to get back Jazz's rights.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guilty

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if I'll ever write more to this. *shrugs*

Prowl's sensory panels twitched in a restless gesture as he lay on his side near the wall the berth was pressed against. As his high-set sensors buzzed at him, he greedily took in the information presented to him, knowing that Jazz was safe, even if the Polyhexian was curled up in the corner of the small room and terrified of the strange way Prowl had been acting.

Prowl wished he could tell Jazz why he'd been acting as bad as the House they were currently serving, but if the slave (and oh, how that word burned his spark, but that was Jazz's station since the House owned Jazz's precious certificate) knew why, others had a more likely chance of finding out, not to mention simply overhearing the conversation. Others finding out would be very, very bad because then Prowl would likely get cast out from the House and Smokescreen would be found out too and oh, he just didn't want to think about any of this anymore!

Resolutely, Prowl clamped his optics shut and tried to initiate his recharge protocols.

He would have no such luck that night, he knew as he stared at the dark wall thirty minutes later. The so soft, uneven breathing behind him told him audibly that Jazz was still awake, but either fighting sleep or crying judging by the occasional hitches in the mech's breathing.

"Jazz," he ordered quietly as he turned to sit up, taking a casual pose on the berth, "come here."

The Polyhexian nodded, jerkily standing and hastily making his way to stand beside the berth. "Wh-what do you need, master?" tentatively asked the trembling mech.

Even though he disliked the title Jazz had started calling him by, Prowl pulled Jazz onto the berth, the smaller mech stumbling in his haste to comply with Prowl's silent wishes. "Curl up against me," crooned the Praxian to the slave.

Fearful of the other's reaction if he didn't, Jazz obeyed the command and curled against Prowl. After a few moments, Prowl sighed and pressed a kiss against Jazz's helm, wrapping his arms around the other as the lay on their sides facing each other. "I have greatly missed lying with you, my Jazz," murmured Prowl, only to find Jazz in recharge against him, much to his surprise.

When Jazz woke the next day, he found Prowl missing, much to his sadness until his recent memories filtered into his tired processor. He immediately cowered on the berth, backing into the corner as he looked around. Soft whimpers escaped him as he covered himself with the sheets, covering even his helm. After a time (he couldn't tell how long because he couldn't access his chronometer any more), he heard the door open.

A startled chuckle reached his audios, and Prowl's too-pleasant voice drifted to him, "Uncover your face; I have something to give you."

Shy, Jazz slowly peeked out from the sheets, hoping Prowl wouldn't punish him. He uncovered completely as he crawled to the edge of the large berth, sitting with his legs dangling.

Prowl's optics brightened, and he flicked his doorwings in approval. "Kneel on the floor," he ordered sternly, watching Jazz shiver and obey immediately, folding both long legs under him. Jazz had always had a thing for his voice; apparently, that hadn't changed, though the reaction could also be fear.

He pulled something out of his subspace, showing off a strip of metal woven together. It took Jazz a moment to identify it. When he did, his uncovered optics brightened in surprise, "A collar, for me, master?"

"Yes," murmured Prowl, "All for you. It shows my possession of you. No other will touch you from now on unless it is a lord of the House or another slave you invite."

A tear slowly rolled down Jazz's cheek and he sobbed softly in gratitude, "Thank you, master; thank you so much. How may I repay you?" Clasping his servos in front of his chest, he tilted his helm back, showing off his neck for Prowl to put the collar on.

Prowl settled the collar snug against his little Jazz's neck, feeling reassured by the sight of it. "Go out and do your duties for the House; I must attend to my own."

"Yes, master," complied Jazz as he stood up with Prowl on his heels, heading out the door.


End file.
